


Please Silence Your Mobile Phones

by CrayolaDinosaurs



Series: Alone With You Verse [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Rimming, SEXXXXXX, Sexual Content, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 13:27:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrayolaDinosaurs/pseuds/CrayolaDinosaurs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg may or may not have interrupted some serious Johnlock sexy times.</p><p>Yeah, like Sherlock would let a phone call keep him from the cock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Silence Your Mobile Phones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Megg33k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megg33k/gifts).



> PSA: John and Sherlock are using antibacterial lubrication to prevent urethral infection. Be advised that, even in monogamous relationships, anal sex without condoms can be very dangerous.
> 
> That one's for you Prof.

Sherlock lay with his head in John’s lap, his fingers flying over the keys of his phone. John was running his hands through Sherlock’s silky curls. Okay, maybe John was braiding his hair, but Sherlock didn’t know that, and John certainly wasn’t going to tell him. But when Sherlock turned off his phone and looked up at John, John burst into manly giggles. Sherlock looked completely confused.

“You’re so pretty.” John managed between his chuckles.

Sherlock actually blushed, colour spreading from the bridge of his nose to the tips of his ears, little braids hanging sporadically from his head. He was adorable. John reached down and grabbed one of Sherlock’s hands and pulled it to his mouth. He kissed the knuckles before flipping it over and placing a soft kiss in the centre of Sherlock’s palm. John released the hand and Sherlock sat up. He crawled over to John, face still flushed, and sat astride his lap. John’s hands settled on Sherlock’s waist as Sherlock leaned forward and pressed his lips to John’s.

John traced Sherlock’s full lower lip with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. Closing his teeth on it, John heard Sherlock moan lightly. Sherlock’s hands moved from John’s chest to the nape of his neck. John’s hands squeezed and he ran his thumbs along the bottom of Sherlock’s ribs. As John licked into Sherlock’s mouth and tangled their tongues together, Sherlock wound his long fingers in John’s hair, pulling and tugging.

John’s hands began to roam. One traced the vertebrae of Sherlock’s spine, causing Sherlock to shiver, while the other moved to Sherlock’s glorious bum. John broke from the kiss and took a deep breath before bending his head forward and sucking on Sherlock’s Adam’s apple. Sherlock tightened his hands in John’s hair and held him in place, releasing a breathy moan.

John covered Sherlock’s throat with open-mouthed kisses, nipping and sucking every so often. Sherlock rocked his hips, groaning obscenely, as John nibbled on his earlobe.

“You really are bloody gorgeous,” John whispered right before his bit down on the thick cord of muscle in Sherlock’s neck. Sherlock threw his head back and a whimper escaped from his mouth.

John began popping the buttons on Sherlock’s shirt through their holes slowly, kissing the milky white skin exposed with each move of his fingers. When John could no longer bend enough to reach, he laid Sherlock down on the couch. John finished with the buttons and ran his hands up Sherlock’s chest lightly tweaking Sherlock’s nipples as he moved to push the shirt from Sherlock’s shoulders. John gladly tossed the garment across the room, where it draped itself over the skull.

John lowered himself in between Sherlock’s slightly spread thighs and placed a hand on Sherlock’s smooth, slightly sunken tummy, placing light feathery kisses around his navel. Sherlock squirmed beneath him, bucking his hips when John inserted his tongue into Sherlock’s belly button. Moving lower, John opened Sherlock’s trousers with his teeth, smirking as he listened to Sherlock keening above him.

John rubbed his cheek over Sherlock’s cotton-ensconced erection, tonguing the damp circle that appeared at its tip. Sherlock whined, high and breathy, as John mouthed back down his swollen cock, enjoying the mingling tastes of fabric softener and Sherlock. Sherlock grabbed John’s shoulders and yanked him up the couch. He dropped him haphazardly and fumbled for the hem of John’s jumper. He tried to pull it over John’s head, but it got stuck on John’s wrists and nose. John chuckled softly as Sherlock tugged harder and harder in desperation, succeeding only in releasing one wrist. John slapped Sherlock’s hands away and divested himself of his jumper and vest, toeing off his shoes while he was at it.

He lowered himself again and kissed Sherlock softly, surely, confidently. But Sherlock was done being manoeuvred. He rolled them over slipping a deft hand between their bodies and unfastening John’s slacks. He was pleasantly surprised to find John wasn’t wearing any pants. He glanced up at John in shock and John grinned mischievously before pulling him into another kiss. John gasped and let his head fall back when Sherlock palmed his engorged penis, rutting slowly into the touch.

John lifted his hips and allowed Sherlock to remove his trousers completely. Sherlock aimed the trousers at the cow’s skull hanging on the wall, managing to successfully cover its cavernous eye sockets and protect its delicate innocence. John covered his mouth with his hand and giggled until he saw the devilish glint in Sherlock’s eye. Sherlock kneeled at John’s feet. He placed his hands on the outside of John’s thighs. He pulled, lifting and spreading John’s knees, pushing them up towards John’s chest.

He bent forward and nosed at the base of John’s cock, inhaling and relishing the heady scent. He lowered himself further and licked a broad stripe from John’s anus to his scrotum before sucking one of John’s balls into the moist warmth of his mouth. One of John’s legs slipped down as Sherlock fluttered his tongue over sensitive skin, but Sherlock merely pushed it up again. John grabbed it and held it in place so Sherlock let his hand return, dragging his fingernails lightly down John’s thigh.

Sherlock released John’s testicle with a loud pop before moving on to the other and nibbling carefully at the soft flesh. He felt John’s thighs tremble. He began tracing circles around John’s puckered entrance, feeling the muscles quiver beneath his touch. Relinquishing John’s sac, Sherlock dropped to run his tongue over John’s perineum. He licked figure eights along the smooth skin, swirling behind John’s bollocks. John’s eyes rolled back as Sherlock began lapping at his hole. Sherlock pointed his tongue and ran it in wide circles around John’s clenching centre. John’s head slammed from side to side and Sherlock reached up and began massaging his hanging globes.

John ran his hands over his body, brushing his own nipples, running his hands through the small puddle of pre-cum growing on his stomach and spreading it. As Sherlock braced his hands on John’s arse, parting the cheeks slowly. Sherlock placed the tip of his tongue at John’s arsehole, circling slowly, teasingly, maddeningly, as John made sounds above him that could only be described as whorish.

“Sherlooock... Please,” John begged, shivering in desperation. Sherlock flicked his tongue over John’s anus a few times, drawing almost pained whimpers from John, before plunging into his tight heat. John’s back arched as Sherlock licked his inner walls. John moaned obscenely as Sherlock paid special attention to the flesh between the two sphincters. Sherlock fitted his lips around John’s stretching hole and pushed past the second ring of muscle, as deep as it would go. John’s vision spotting with white was cruelly interrupted by the sharp ring of a telephone.

John glanced curiously over at the coffee table, trying to read the name of the caller without disengaging Sherlock from his arse. He gasped as Sherlock hummed in annoyance, the low vibrations flowing through his rectum, making his eyes fall closed. Another harsh ring. John reached for the phone, writhing in pleasure as Sherlock fluttered his tongue.  John’s shoulders fell from the couch as he closed his fingers around the still ringing phone, though Sherlock’s grip on John’s hips kept the sinful tongue from vacating his loosening hole.

Sherlock reached down and grabbed John’s leaking cock, pulling a long stroke as John answered the phone.

“Hello?” John asked breathlessly as Sherlock ran a thumb over John’s slit, now nipping lightly around his puckered anus.

“Umm. John? It’s Greg.”

Sherlock nosed John’s balls before biting beneath them, giving John’s prick another firm pull, as he slid two deft fingers into John’s arse. John let out a gravelly moan. He slapped at Sherlock’s hand on his penis half-heartedly, whispering harshly, “Stop for a second I’m on the phone.” His face practically begged for Sherlock to continue, but Sherlock calmly released his lover’s erection and lowered himself onto the floor, easing the pressure on John’s shoulders. “Yeah Greg, anything I can do for you?”

Sherlock pressed another finger into John’s tight hole, twisting before he brushed up against John’s prostate. John hissed but broke off into a moan when Sherlock swallowed his dick.

“Is this a bad time?”

John clenched his jaw against the pleasure radiating through his body from the talented fingers buried deep within him. “No, not at all. What do you need Greg?” Sherlock removed his fingers and John almost cried out at the loss. Sherlock stood and leaned heavily on the couch the old springs protesting loudly, reaching for something on the side table.

“Could you maybe meet me at the pub?” Sherlock returned and fell immediately to licking the sensitive underside of John’s cock. “And bring Sherlock?”

“Sure,” Sherlock took the head into his mouth. “No problem,” Sherlock began bobbing. “Just give me twenty,” Sherlock huffed in indignation around his mouthful of dick, tracing John’s hole again, with newly lubed fingers, “No, thirty minutes. We’ll be there.”

Sherlock pushed four fingers firmly into John, and John heard the click of an ended call halfway through the lurid groan he released. Sherlock stilled his hand and ran his tongue beneath John’s foreskin as John panted and moaned through the stretch.

Sherlock pulled off of John’s dick and blew lightly on the tip. “So, Lestrade called?”

John shot him a venomous glare that turned wanton as Sherlock rotated his fingers slightly and brushed against John’s prostate again.

“What did he want?” Sherlock asked innocently cupping John’s tightening sac and rolling the testicles in his palm. John emitted a piteous whine as Sherlock’s finger and thumb formed an almost too tight ring around the base of his erection and squeezed.

“Need us... for... some-ah-thing,” John managed to gasp out.

“Anything in particular?” Sherlock inquired, his voice low and sensual, as his fingers pushed farther into John and he nipped at the pulsing vein in John’s cock.

“Don’t know... Didn’t... assssk.” John was becoming incoherent as he rocked himself on Sherlock’s fingers. Sherlock placed open mouthed kisses on John’s thighs and then yanked his hand from John’s arse.

John sounded like he was dying. The whimpers emerging from his throat were loud and distressed, but Sherlock’s eyes were locked on John’s clenching hole. He leaned down to press an obscene kiss to it before gathering the now trembling John in his arms and carrying him to the bedroom. He laid John on the bed and divested himself of his trousers and pants, his aching erection jutting proudly from his narrow frame.

He lowered himself over John who was watching him with hooded eyes. Sherlock brought his head down and flicked his tongue over John’s nipple. John’s back arched and his hands gripped Sherlock’s curls, hauling him up into a heated kiss, their erections dragging together. John bucked his hips and Sherlock grunted, unable to resist grinding his hips.

He kissed down John’s neck and aligned the tip of his hardened cock to John’s still loose arse. John tried to push down, but Sherlock grabbed John’s knees and pushed them up towards his chest, halting the movement. Sherlock placed a soft kiss on John’s calf and pushed his dripping cock into John’s slick entrance.

He slid in with little resistance. John linked his ankles at the small of Sherlock’s back and pulled him in further. John lifted his hips as Sherlock ground into him, searching for the perfect angle. Sherlock pulled out and slammed in again and John knew he’d found it, stars blossoming in his vision. He cried out as Sherlock pressed in again and again, dragging against his prostate with each outstroke. He could feel his oncoming orgasm; he knew he was on the cusp, but Sherlock stilled and gripped his weeping prick painfully.

John gasped and whined in protest, trying to move his hips enough to bring himself to completion, but Sherlock’s grip on his cock was tight and he was stubbornly refusing to allow John relief. When John’s breathing had evened out once more, Sherlock loosened his hand and pulled soothingly on John’s sensitive erection. He sheathed himself fully once more and bent down to capture John’s lips in a soft sweet kiss. Keeping their foreheads together, Sherlock allowed their breaths to mingle as he slowly, maddeningly, rolled his hips.

John opened his eyes and kissed the tip of Sherlock’s nose, sucking lightly. His tongue slid along the thin strip of cartilage between Sherlock’s nostrils before biting the end teasingly.  Sherlock smirked and began nipping along John’s ear, slowly increasing the speed of his hips. John’s breaths became ragged as Sherlock sucked hard at the corner of his jaw, pulling out almost completely before slamming his hips home.

John lifted his head and bit hard on Sherlock’s neck. Sherlock growled and his rhythm stuttered. He grabbed John’s wrists and held them above his head with one hand reaching the other down to pinch John’s nipple roughly. John threw his head back as the nub was pulled and squeezed and flicked mercilessly, his arse being pounded in a once again steady rhythm. John struggled against the hand holding him wanting to pull Sherlock closer and inflict his own pleasurable torture, but Sherlock gripped tighter. John unhooked his ankles and planted his feet on the mattress, altering the angle slightly, causing Sherlock’s motions to slow. He pushed hard with one foot, straightening the other leg, rolling them, at once breaking Sherlock’s grip and putting John back in control.

He straightened himself, hands scrabbling for purchase on Sherlock’s sweat drenched chest. Sherlock was momentarily stunned, his face an image of shock and arousal. John chuckled softly and bent forward to kiss Sherlock’s forehead, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of Sherlock’s prick still buried inside him. He ran his hands tantalisingly up Sherlock’s sides, thumbed over Sherlock’s nipples and buried his hands in Sherlock’s raven hair.

He made to comb his fingers through the locks, knowing that with Sherlock’s sensitive follicles it would drive him mad, but his hand caught on something. Looking down he noticed the small braids that had started this whole debacle were still in place. He broke out into giggles. Sherlock, however, was done playing games. He gripped John’s hips and pushed up forcefully, cutting John’s laughter off in a throaty gasp.

“Something amusing, John?” Sherlock asked roughly, punctuating each word with a thrust. John’s fingernails dug into Sherlock’s chest, scraping, scratching, marking. John arched his back, rutting his cock into Sherlock’s abdomen. John leaned his shoulders back putting his hands on Sherlock’s bent knees, bending his back into an uncomfortable curve that created delicious friction within him. Sherlock’s prick was abusing his prostate and Sherlock’s pace was frenzied and unrelenting. John took shuddering breaths and cried out in turn, his hips moving in jerky circles of their own accord.

“Pretty was I, John?” Sherlock asked through clenched teeth, his fingertips leaving bruises along John’s hips. John’s head was thrown back in ecstasy. “Let’s see how pretty you look with my cum dripping from your hole.” John produced his most scandalous moan yet, high pitched and wailing, there was no doubt that the neighbours, and probably most of London, had heard. Sherlock licked a broad stripe up one of his palms and, continuing his furious thrusting, reached up to John’s absolutely rigid penis. He tugged brutally in time with his hips watching with a devilish gleam in his dilated pupils as John fell to pieces above him.

Feeling the beginnings of John’s orgasm, Sherlock reached the hand that had been gripping John’s hip around to tease where they met. John fell forward, his arms barely managing to catch him, as Sherlock slipped his middle and ring fingers into John’s taut anus, stretching the taxed muscle even further. Sherlock increased the force of his thrusts, hammering in, pounding, owning.

John’s hole clenched around Sherlock’s cock and John let loose an almighty howl as cum shot between their bodies, striping Sherlock from navel to nipple. John jerked with each following spurt, the muscles in his arse spasming through the aftershocks. Sherlock thrust erratically, holding John close, using his arse the way he needed to, his own release barrelling him down. He arched his back and stiffened, coming hard in John’s still quivering hole.

Before he allowed himself to collapse he pushed John off of his chest. John got up on his knees and Sherlock pushed his chest and face down into the mattress, staring lustfully at John’s utterly debauched body. Ejaculate began seeping from John’s ravaged entrance, dripping down his thigh. Sherlock watched until it pooled in the crook of John’s knee before leaning forward and lapping it up. He licked and kissed up John’s leg, collecting every drop he came across, savouring the mingling tastes of him and John. He nibbled softly at one cheek of John’s arse and John whimpered, muffled by the sheets. Sherlock licked at John’s cleft and swirled his tongue into John’s still quivering hole. John’s knees gave out beneath him. Sherlock embraced him, pulling him tight to his chest, placing soothing kisses along John’s neck and shoulders.

John slowly stopped shaking and began to doze so Sherlock extricated himself from his doctor and padded softly to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, stretching through the dull ache in his shoulders, before turning to the mirror. There were livid marks on his neck and scratches on his chest. He smiled at the feeling of being marked, possessed. His eyes flicked to his hair noticing something was off. “Braids? What the fuck, John?” His hands threaded through his curls, coming occasionally across new resistance. “I suppose I am rather pretty.” He giggled quietly to himself and slowly undid each braid as the bathroom filled with steam.

He stepped into the hot spray, bathing slowly and methodically, knowing he needed to wake John soon. Thinking of John, naked and spread on his bed, brought renewed life to his penis. He attempted to ignore it and went on with his scrubbing, but found his hands drifting frequently to his ever-hardening cock. He gave it a few good strokes and whimpered softly.

“Enjoying yourself?” Sherlock jumped, nearly falling in the slippery shower. John was leaning against the sink running a hand over his already slick, hardening cock. Sherlock’s knees trembled at the sight of John slowly fucking his own fist and he grabbed at the wall for support. John released his cock with a low hum and prowled toward Sherlock. Sherlock’s pupils dilated as he watched John, his erection free and swinging. John leaned in and nipped at Sherlock’s chin before gripping Sherlock’s arm and stepping into the stall behind him. “Getting nice and clean?” John whispered in Sherlock’s ear, his hands trailing down Sherlock’s sides to grip at his perfect bum. “I think you missed a spot,” John growled, running his index finger up the cleft of Sherlock’s arse.

Sherlock released a breathy moan, bending forward slightly. John prodded teasingly at Sherlock’s tight anus and Sherlock bent even farther. “Look at you, you’ve just finished coming not fifteen minutes ago and here you are practically begging for my cock.” Sherlock whimpered and John slipped the tip of his finger in. “I like you like this, bent over, flushed, quiet except for the whorish sounds.” Sherlock rocked back on John’s finger, his penis now fully erect, gasping at John’s words. John slipped in another, twisting and scissoring his fingers, pushing Sherlock into the shower wall.

“Please....”

“That’s right. Beg. I want you to beg. Serves you right for leaving me in that bed and coming to pleasure yourself.” Sherlock released a pitiful whine as John rubbed his fingers roughly over Sherlock’s prostate.

“I’m sorry... Please, I need you. Please, sir...” John’s cock twitched at the sound of Sherlock’s pleas.

“Please what?” John said hoarsely as he bent Sherlock even farther forward, pressing Sherlock’s face and chest into the corner. Sherlock bent his knees slightly, trying to caress John’s swelling dick with his arse, but John stepped back. “Please what, Sherlock?” John repeated, arrogantly.

Sherlock came back to himself and snapped irritably, “Damn it John. If you don’t fuck me right now-”

John jerked his fingers from Sherlock’s hole and breached it with only the head of his penis. Sherlock, a long low sound escaping his throat, bounced his arse a couple times before John slapped it with harsh ferocity. Sherlock cried out as John continued to spank his cheeks, John’s head merely keeping Sherlock open. When John’s hand stilled, coming to grip at Sherlock’s hips, Sherlock was panting and his fabulous bum was a bright, angry red.

“John... John, please.” Sherlock’s voice quavered and cracked, as his hands slid over the slick tiles searching for purchase.

John, his breathing heavy, pushed into Sherlock slowly, fascinated, as always, by the sight of his prick disappearing into Sherlock. Now, John will be the first to admit that he loves being buggered, spreading his legs, having things up his arse, the more stretch, the better. But he also loves this, surrounding Sherlock, filling him, covering him, being both in and around him, grounding him as he lets go.

John pounded into Sherlock, feeling his balls slap against Sherlock’s taint. When Sherlock tried to push back, John reached forward and, twisting his fingers into Sherlock’s dripping locks, yanked his head back, causing Sherlock to cry out loudly. With Sherlock contorted, it was easy for John to reach around and trail teasing fingers up Sherlock’s hot shaft.

Sherlock’s hips attempted to buck, but John held firm, preventing the motion. Sherlock growled, his ribs pressing painfully into the tile, John’s fingers still fondling his hard cock.  John pressed deeply into Sherlock, pulling the raven hair, tonguing his way up Sherlock’s neck inch by inch, nipping on Sherlock’s earlobe, swirling his tongue in Sherlock’s aural canal, pumping his fist on Sherlock’s prick. Sherlock arched into the sensation, moaning and panting as the now tepid water flowed over his body.

John’s tongue ran around the shell of Sherlock’s ear. “I think I’ll take your apology now.” John bit down hard on the cartilage of Sherlock’s ear while his thumb slid over Sherlock’s leaking slit. Sherlock’s vision went white as his second orgasm tore through him. He was vaguely aware of John continuing to mutter praise as he continued to pound into Sherlock’s clenching arse, but Sherlock was boneless. He remained standing only because John still had a hold on his cock and the shower was too small for him to actually go anywhere.

When Sherlock gained some strength in his legs, John spun him around and pushed him back. Sherlock gasped at the cold tile and watched through hooded eyes as John worked his fist wildly over his still erect penis. The water now spraying over John’s chest mingled with the sparse blonde hair it found there, beading and rolling. Sherlock dragged his fingers through the rivulets, barely tracing over John’s nipples, following the uneven spray as John hunched in on himself, close to the edge.

John stepped forward, pushing his face into Sherlock’s pecs. Sherlock ran his hands over John’s back, scraping and soothing in turn. Three more strokes and John called out roughly, covering Sherlock’s chest with his semen once again. He licked some stray ejaculate from Sherlock’s nipples as Sherlock began to run shampoo through John’s hair.

They calmly cleaned each other, trading soft, sweet kisses. And if they were a little late to the meeting with Lestrade, well, Greg was kind enough not to say anything. Or maybe he was drunk and distracted, how the fuck should I know?

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you have friends like the members of [Bd5Hr](http://tinychat.com/bd5hr)


End file.
